


The Closing Gate

by guiltipanda



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet Ending, Blow Jobs, Communication, Declarations Of Love, Established Relationship, Feelings, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Sex, Lack of Communication, M/M, Making Out, Porn with Feelings, Prumano - Freeform, Russia is not a rapist, Talking, a lot of talk about prussia dying, and about other stuff, once they get their shit together, past possible pruhun, prussia finally talks to romano about moscow, prussia is bad at talking, romano is on top, short sex scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-19 01:12:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15498990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guiltipanda/pseuds/guiltipanda
Summary: Romano noticed the patterns in Prussia’s behavior. How, starting a few weeks after his birthday, he would communicate less. All the texts, video calls, and phone calls they exchanged on a daily basis became more infrequent. And then, for an entire day, there would be nothing.It was always the same day: February 25th.





	The Closing Gate

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so....anyone who is reading my other stores, I'm sorry for not updating. Aaaand, I'm even more sorry to say that I'm probably not going to update. I haven't been feeling like writing fanfiction at all lately, especially not for Hetalia, since I've been really frustrated with the fandom lately. So, the two stories that I have published are probably not going to be completed, and the few other stories that I had in the works are probably never going to be published. That includes what this story was originally supposed to be a sequel to. 
> 
> I had this monster story planned that I imagined would be my magnum opus in terms of fanfiction. It was suuuper long, historical, I did sooo much research for it. It was going to cover Romano's life from the start of the Spanish Succession all the way up to modern day. There was so much Prumano in it, as well as a bunch of other pairings, including Spamano, Framano, FraIta, SpUK, uuuhhh coughItacestcough and lots of others...
> 
> Buuut I'm probably never going to finish that now. But I did finish this (cause it was waay shorter and easier to write and just came out of me naturally), and you don't really NEED to read the monster prequel to get what's happening here. 
> 
> But, to give a little backstory anyway, in case you're interested, after a nearly 300 year long slowburn romance with Prussia secretly crushing on Romano and Romano slowly but surely falling in love with him while both of them vehemently denied their feelings, culminating in an affair around WWII that died once Prussia was dissolved and sent to Moscow, followed by some awkwardness when Prussia came back, as well as heavy angst as Prussia deals with, well, everything that comes with being an ex-nation...Prussia admits two things to Romano. 1) He's dying. (Or, more accurately, lost his immortality and will eventually die.) 2) He's in love with him. Romano spends some time dealing with all the emotions that bombard him from finding out these two things. Prussia doesn't help matters when he tries to propose to him. (He was faced with his own mortality and gave into his impulses.) But after ALL of that nonsense, the two enter into a tentative relationship.

There were certain things Romano and Prussia never discussed, certain days they never called attention to. Unpleasant conversations that were better not to have. It was easier to let the past go unspoken than to confront it, and as years went by, talking only got harder.

They celebrated the 18th of February, and everything was normal. Prussia liked big, flashy parties, and he liked having the people he cared most about gathered together, all focused on him. He’d smiled the entire time, and it wasn’t one of his fake smiles either. Romano had learned to tell the difference.

He’d also noticed the patterns in Prussia’s behavior. How, starting a few weeks after his birthday, he would communicate less. All the texts, video calls, and phone calls they exchanged on a daily basis became more infrequent. Being in a long-distance relationship was not ideal to Romano. He _lived_ for these things. And then, for an entire day, there would be nothing. No calls. No texts. Not even an update on his stupid fucking blog.

Things would eventually return to normal, and they would act like it never happened. And it was always the same day: February 25th.

Romano hoped every year, but time didn’t make it better. And here he was again, at home on a Sunday morning, hardly able to tear his eyes away from his phone for one goddamn minute, waiting for something he knew wasn’t going to happen. He could feel his stomach churning. He was so sick of this. Sick of avoiding this, putting it off, making excuses, and just _hoping_ things would turn around. He could only see two options at this point. He could continue to bottle up his frustrations in silence. Or, he could buy a last-minute plane ticket to Berlin and throw his frustrations in Prussia’s face.

He was at the airport within the hour.

 

* * *

 

 “Romano,” Germany said, surprise in his voice. Romano pushed passed him without so much as a hello, his body shivering and begging for the relief of indoors. Berlin in February was still frozen and bleak and shitty and everything Romano hated where it concerned weather. Germany bent to help Romano with his (many, many) coats and asked, “Does my brother know you’re here?”

“No.” He channeled all his determination into his glare, because like hell he was going to be stopped now just because he hadn’t announced that he was visiting. Germany frowned, but not in the same disapproving way that he had when he’d first learned that Prussia and Romano were dating. There was more understanding and sympathy in it. Romano looked to the basement door just down the hall. “Is he down there?”

“He usually stays down there most of the day. He comes up for beer and food.”

Romano’s spirits dropped to the floor. He’d always worried about what Prussia did during the days that he didn’t talk to him. Isolating himself from everyone who gave a shit about him was on the list of worst possibilities. It wasn’t like Prussia at all, and the thought of him alone, on today of all days, without anyone watching him to prevent him from doing reckless, stupid things offered Romano little peace of mind. He left Germany in the entryway hanging up coats and ventured towards the basement.

The dim light shone up the narrow steps as he quietly descended. Prussia was reading at his desk. The sight of him leaning back in his chair, glasses on, propping open a book surely packed with violence, adventure, and romance was familiar and welcome. Romano had braced himself for much worse, but he relaxed as he stepped off the last of the stairs.

Prussia hadn’t looked up yet. He no doubt had heard him enter, but he couldn’t have expected anyone but his brother coming down to check on him. When he did finally acknowledge him, his eyes shot open. “Romano?” He removed his reading glasses to stare at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Tch. How’s that any way to greet your boyfriend?” Romano snarked. “I went through the hells of international airport security and German winter to get here. You should be grateful.”

He snapped the book closed and dropped it carelessly on his desk with a _thud_. “I didn’t ask you to come.”

Romano fumbled with a response and bit the inside of his cheek. What the fuck was Prussia getting mad at him for? Dammit, this was pissing him off. “Why _didn’t_ you ask me to come? Why haven’t you texted me, or called me, or _something_?”

He looked perplexed, and his voice pitched as if he was asking why Romano hadn’t realized it on his own. “I didn’t want to?”

“ _Asshole_ ,” he hissed. His stomach twisted in knots, and his throat tightened. Prussia didn’t want to talk to him, didn’t want him around, not when it was important.

“That’s…not how I meant that to sound.” He sighed and dragged his fingers through his white-blonde hair, ruffling what was scruffy to begin with. “I’m not trying to be an asshole, okay? I just felt like having some time to myself. If you’re mad about that, then I’m sorry. I didn’t think not texting you for a few days would get you so pissed off that you’d come all the way up here.”

“If you’re…” Romano paused. There was no way for him to know what Prussia was going through. He didn’t look to be having any physical reaction or pain, but there was no denying that today was affecting him. Romano tried to think of the best words. Prussia was already trying to minimalize his problems, he would never say he was depressed. “If you’re upset—”

“What?” He forced a dry laugh, which pushed Romano to the limits of his patience.

“What do you _mean_ ‘what’? And don’t’ give me any of your normal bullshit!”

“What normal bullshit? Romano, I’m fine!”

“No, you see! That’s exactly what I’m talking about!” He was screaming at the top of his lungs, so close to slapping Prussia in his stupid goddamn face.

“Romano—”

“Shut the fuck up and listen to me for a minute!”

Prussia slowly closed his mouth, even if the annoyed look on his face made it clear he didn’t want to. Romano figured it was another way to apologize for what he’d said earlier, as well he fucking should.

“It’s been twenty years since you got back. And, I know that’s nothing. We haven’t even been together that long. But…the time that we have been together…that’s something. It’s been short, but it’s been important. To me. And if I’m running out of time…” His eyes stung with tears overflowing, trickling down his face. Shit, he’d fucked up. He covered his mouth as a simper broke from the back of his throat.

 _I’m running out of time. I’m running out of time._ He tried so hard to ignore these thoughts, always there in the back of his mind, but sometimes he just couldn’t. _I’m running out of time. I’m running out of time._

Prussia got up from his chair and went to him, pulling him into a hug. With one arm firmly wrapped around his shoulders and one hand on the back of his head, he whispered, “ _Shh_ …”

Romano fisted the front of his shirt and sobbed into his chest.

“Stop crying, you big baby.”

“I want to punch you so bad,” he croaked.

They stayed like that for a few minutes as Romano quieted down and regained control of his breathing. He kept his head against Prussia’s chest, finding comfort in the fact that he was still warm, still felt the same, still smelled the same. He was still Prussia. He was still here.

_For how long?_

“I just want to know that you’re okay,” he said softly. “If you’re not going to tell me what’s going on with you, then what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

He felt Prussia’s expression change, and he just _knew_ what he was doing. He glared up at him and, sure enough, he was smiling.

“Why do you look so happy?”

“It’s just nice to know that if I ever try to close a door on you, you’re going to care enough to break it down.”

Romano wanted to tell him that they wouldn’t have to go through all the trouble if he would just fucking talk to him. _It’s not like I’m your boyfriend or anything._ “We both know what today is. And you’re not nearly as good a liar as you think you are.”

Prussia gently released him from the embrace and took a step towards his bed. Romano’s eyes fell on the first thing in front of him, Prussia’s desk, and that’s when he caught the title of the book he’d been reading. _Vanished Kingdom: The History of Prussia_.

“Why would you…?”

The mattress groaned with the added weight as Prussia got on his bed, scooching to lean back against the headboard. He looked up at Romano and patted the space beside him, and Romano sat there on the edge. “I didn’t lie when I said I’m fine. I’m the picture of perfect health. Nothing to worry about.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t I look fine?” He smiled and puffed himself up, straightening his posture as if putting himself on display.

“Okay…” Romano took him at his word with cautious optimism. “What about not-physically?”

Prussia’s smile fell a notch. “I guess I always feel sort of distracted around this time…”

“But you don’t get like this in November, or October. Why only now?”

“Because…” He closed his eyes for a second as if he was looking back into the past. “Those are happy memories. It was difficult at the time, but reuniting with West was what I wanted, too. I never liked being the GDR. I only took that name because it was my one option at staying alive after…” They’d both been there when it happened. He didn’t need to go into detail. So, he didn’t. He stared off into the middle distance with a vague expression. “I hated Moscow. I only ever wanted to be what I was before.”

A nervousness fluttered in Romano’s chest. Prussia had never opened up to him about his time in Moscow before. Now that they were teetering around the subject, he wanted to keep Prussia talking as much as possible. “What happened while you were behind the wall?”

His expression turned to stone, and he didn’t say anything for the longest time. Romano silently hoped that he would answer, that he was ready to confide in him.

“I know what the rumors say,” he said finally. “Russia never laid a finger on me. You know me, I don’t bend easily to pain or threats. Well, he knew that too. Honestly, it wasn’t that bad for me. Not compared to what others had to go through. Russia and I were…close. But our relationship was strained. As you can imagine.”

He didn’t want to admit it. Maybe he couldn’t admit it out loud, but Romano could see it in his eyes as they glazed over, in the way his faced turned pale and his hands fidgeted in his lap. _Fear_. Fear of Russia. Fear of talking about this. Fear of the past that he couldn’t escape.

“I didn’t like the way they watched and controlled me. Knowing that I was under surveillance, knowing that they could track me, that they could do whatever they wanted because I had no autonomy. West was just as bad off with the Allies in the beginning, and I felt like we still had some kind of connection to each other because of that. But then the Allies changed him, and then his occupation ended, and…I was still behind that wall. And no one wanted me to get better. Russia sure as hell didn’t. The Allies couldn’t give a shit. West was too busy kissing their asses to help. So, I was just stuck. Stuck doing whatever Russia told me to do, stuck in an economic disaster that drained my resources and starved my people. And then…” He blinked suddenly, as if he had lost himself in his rant and was just catching up. “Then the USSR was finished. And things still didn’t get better. Not for a long time. And, well, you know the rest.”

Romano nodded slowly. The reason that Prussia was becoming mortal and Romano was not was because reunification in Germany hadn’t happened the same way Italy had united. All the little Italian states had been annexed and absorbed by the leaders in the fight for independence, and after many long, arduous wars and years of political redistribution, the only ones to come out of it with their nationhood intact were Veneziano and Romano. Modern day Germany was not a successor state to the former Federal Republic and German Democratic Republic. The two had negotiated and signed a treaty, and in that treaty, the government of East Germany had legislated its own abolition and given everything over to the West.

It never got any easier, trying to accept the fact that a simple piece of paper could determine whether they lived or died. Prussia had been fighting his entire life, and he’d managed to delay it for a little while by becoming the GDR, but he couldn’t fight the inevitable.

“Moscow was…lonely.” Prussia took a slow breath. “Russia liked to think of us as one big, happy family, even though we all kind of hated each other to some extent. But I was thankful for some of them. Having Hungary there helped a lot. She wasn’t the only one, but…that was the closest we’d been, the _nicest_ we’d been to each other, in a long time. We found small ways to keep each other sane.”

Romano’s expression had turned sour, and Prussia only now took notice.

“Don’t worry,” he said teasingly. “Hungary and I…there were times that I thought there was something between us. But I think she always knew she was too good for me.” He gave a snort. “Then again, she chose Austria, so I can’t say much for her standards.”

Whether or not Prussia and Hungary had ever been together, ex-lovers, even those still within their social circles, carried little consequence once you lived to be hundreds of years old. Romano didn’t care about that. He just couldn’t get over the bitterness he held about Moscow, because of the enormous weight Prussia carried with him, withheld from Romano, and especially because of all the time it had robbed them of.

“I missed West more than I could have imagined. But when I came back, it was like having to learn to live with a stranger. And that was even more lonely.” Prussia’s hands continued to fidget. Romano grabbed one of them and squeezed it tight.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? There’s nothing you could have done.” He shrugged. “Anyway, it’s in the past.”

It may have been in the past, but it wasn’t gone. And there were things Romano felt, looking back on it all, that he _should_ have done. He should have thought about Prussia more. He should have written to him, like Germany had. He shouldn’t have just let him fall into the background of his life like a distant and irrelevant memory.

“It is in the past. And I can’t change what happened or make things any easier now. And I can’t…” His mind returned to thoughts of the future. The one where he would have to continue on without Prussia. He bit his quivering lip and pushed back the tears. “This is all we get. And I’m going to make it count.”

He flicked Prussia’s forehead.

“And I expect the same from you. That means you have to talk to me. Every day.”

“ _Ow_ ,” Prussia whined, though he smiled. “Okay. I can do that.”

He leaned forward and kissed him. Soft, slow. His breath was hot on Romano’s face. A small amount of stubble that he’d neglected to shave off tickled Romano’s skin. His familiar scent was sweet and earthy. Romano breathed it in. He was just realizing how much he’d missed Prussia over the last few weeks.

“You do make things easier,” Prussia whispered close. “Just being with me, you make things a hell of a lot easier.”

Romano pulled him back, a small pang in his lower stomach making him want to kiss him more, feel him more. He placed his hands on either side of Prussia to lean in with full intent. Prussia’s lips parted, welcoming Romano’s advances. His mouth was so hot.

“Mm, Prussia.”

He gripped the collar of Prussia’s shirt, falling against his chest. The kisses were becoming more earnest, needy. Prussia stroked Romano’s hair back and chuckled. “Someone’s getting worked up. How far are you wanting to go?”

“All the way.” He kissed Prussia’s neck. His skin was so fucking hot. Every part of him was radiating heat, and Romano was burning. “Take off your clothes.”

He complied, first pulling his t-shirt over his head and tossing it aside. Romano traced the tight muscles of his chest and abdomen with his fingertips. Prussia was smaller than he’d been before the USSR, and he’d probably never regain the same physique he’d had in the past, but through a strict regimen one could only expect from a soldier of Prussia’s fame, he still maintained his body. It was nice to look at. Better to touch. Hard against Romano’s own less impressive frame, and so easy to make blush and tremble with pleasure.

Prussia helped Romano take off his shirt, and no sooner had it fallen on the floor than he was planting kisses along his tan collarbone, moving down. His fingers brushed against Romano’s bare sides and around to the small of his back. He pulled him closer till he was sitting on his lap. His mouth continued moving over Romano’s chest, then stopped to tease one of his nipples. Running his tongue over it, nipping gently with his teeth. Romano gasped, wrapped his arms around Prussia’s neck, let his eyes flutter closed as a ripple of delight coursed through his body. But the more Prussia touched him, kissed him, teased him, the more he became painfully aware that they were not yet fully undressed.

“Pants,” he breathed. “Take them off.”

He scooted off Prussia’s lap so they could finish stripping down. All clothes gone, Romano returned to kiss Prussia full on the lips as his hand trailed down to the base of his cock. A few slow, fluid strokes brought Prussia to full hardness. His head leaked with precum, and Romano felt the urge to taste him.

“Lay back,” he said as he positioned himself lower on the bed. Prussia leaned against the headboard once again, spreading his legs. Romano relished the way his breath caught when he took him into his warm, wet mouth. The taste was salty, too salty, but too expected by now to be a deterrent.

His cock was full and throbbing on Romano’s tongue as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked. He could feel the tension vibrating in Prussia’s thighs. He was already flushed and breathing heavily. He tossed his head back, thrusting impatiently into Romano’s mouth with a, “ _Fuuuuuck_.”  He gripped Romano’s hair by the roots. “Fuck, it feels amazing.”

The blunt tip teased the back of this throat, threatening to choke him. The saliva dribbled out the corners of his mouth. He continued to bob his head up and down until his jaw couldn’t take the strain. Prussia was close at that point. Romano finished with his hand, pumping his slickened cock until it was shooting white streams onto his tongue.

“ _Romano_ ,” he moaned as he came, low and guttural. Somehow, every time he said his name like that, even in that accent, (honestly, especially in that accent) Romano fucking melted.

He swallowed some of the cum, let the rest drip onto the sheets. They’d clean up later. Romano sat back up and kissed Prussia, who stroked his hair appreciatively.

“Do you want me to do you too?”

“Hm…” He considered it for a moment. “No. I’d rather fuck you.”

His red eyes glinted with excitement. “Go right ahead.”

Prussia pulled out the lube from his dresser and poured some over Romano’s cock in a thick coat. Romano slicked his fingers with it and poked them against Prussia’s tight, puckered hole. He pushed them inside up to the first joint, massaging, working the lube deeper. When Prussia’s hands left his cock to grip his shoulders, when he heard him panting desperately by his ear, was when Romano decided it was enough preparation.

The first moment that Romano entered him was almost overwhelming. God, had it really been over a month since they last saw each other? It was too long, but right now, at least, everything felt right. The muscles clenching around him, that molten heat, wrung a low moan from his throat. Prussia chewed his lip, his face wrenched. He _tried_ not to tense up, with moderate success.

“Is it painful for you?

“No,” he managed, biting back a whine and bucking his hips. “Feels good. Just…need more.”

Romano would give him more. Later. For now, he bent down to kiss him, slowly pushing his way inside and then pulling out again. Prussia groaned.

“Romano. Come on. Fuck me harder.”

“No,” he said, silencing him with another kiss. “I’m setting the pace here. I want to take…things… _slow_.” He punctuated each of those last three words with a sultry roll of his hips, drawing a mewl out of Prussia with every shallow thrust. The burning desire to forget about proper build-up, forget about savoring the moment, forget about everything but making Prussia scream coiled tightly in his lower stomach.

Prussia reached up to grip the headboard. God, he looked fucking gorgeous like that. Stretched out across the bed, the muscles in his arms and chest taut and glistening with sweat. Gasping for breath, eyes bleary but watching and begging to be fucked. It was enough to make Romano lose control.

He gradually built up his intensity, snapping his hips forward without going too deep. The tightness and the heat and the pleasure made it difficult to hold back. The way Prussia shuddered and dug his nails into his skin when he finally plunged deep inside him was exhilarating.

“Ah!” Prussia’s eyes squeezed shut. “Yes!”

Romano leaned forward for better leverage, pushing Prussia’s legs further apart, fucking him deeper. Harder. Just like he wanted.

“Oh god oh god, oh, yes,” his voice rang out in chorus as his body clenched tighter.

“Prussia….” The name rolled off his tongue like a purr. “Ah…Prussia…I’m gonna come…”

Prussia was already coming. Romano pumped his cock to milk everything out of him as he fucked him through it. Seeing that he was winding down from the climax, he slowed his movements to a languid pace, and then pulled out completely before it became too painful. His hand shot to his own, still very hard member, to finish by himself. The image before him of Prussia, panting heavily and glowing from his orgasm, his chest and stomach splattered with his own release, would have been more than enough to help him with that, but once Prussia took notice of Romano’s need, he immediately offered his assistance. His hand felt so much better. Larger, warmer, rougher. It didn’t take long for Romano to come undone. He moaned Prussia’s name one last time as he spilled over both their hands.

After a few minutes lying in the afterglow, but before they got too sleepy, they cleaned themselves up. They fought over the sink in Prussia’s bathroom as they brushed their teeth, tossed the old sheets onto the floor, and wrapped themselves comfortably in fresh bedding from the linen closet. They sat beside each other in a moment of quiet. Romano leaned his head against Prussia’s shoulder. The stubble on his cheek was more noticeable now as it itched the side of Romano’s face.

“How long has it been since you last shaved?”

“Only a couple of days. Why?”

“Your face is scratchy.”

“Oh, is it now?”

He rubbed his sandpaper chin up and down Romano’s face, neck, anywhere he could reach, earning a squeal and a punch to the arm. He grabbed Romano as he tried to escape and wrestled him onto his back. Just as Romano was about to threaten to drop-kick his ass if he didn’t cut it out, Prussia changed his aim, dipping down for a kiss. His mouth still tasted like mint toothpaste.

“When do you think you’re going to leave?” he asked.

This spur-of-the-moment trip hadn’t been cheap, and it felt like a waste for it to be so short, but Romano had responsibilities back home. “I have work in the morning.”

Prussia’s expression drooped. “I don’t want you to go.”

Romano didn’t want to go either.

His eyes drifted off to the side, once again finding their way to the book on Prussia’s desk. “Why were you reading that?” Prussia silently followed his gaze. “Why would you _want_ to read that?”

“It’s not what you think. I just felt like reading some of the most awesome moments from my life. I’ve, um, been having trouble remembering them.” He read the look of worry on Romano’s face. “It’s because of my age. Nothing serious.”

“Don’t you still have your diaries?”

“Well, yeah! Those are kept safe and in perfect condition, of course. But I’ve read those lots of times already. It’s nice to hear things from a new perspective. It’s a really good book! It perfectly captures how great I was. Am. You should pick it up some time. The, um,” he faltered, eyes turning away, “some of the last few chapters are a little difficult to read, but, uh…”

Romano consoled him with another kiss. No words, just letting Prussia feel that he was there, that he understood, that it was okay. After he broke away, a grin slowly spread across Prussia’s face.

“Did you know that you’re my favorite person?” he asked.

The words tugged at Romano’s heart. Others had liked him, fought over him, loved him in the past, but he didn’t know if he’d ever been anyone’s favorite before. He doubted it.

But now he was _Prussia's favorite_. He wanted to be with him more than anyone else. More than the entire goddamn world.

And he couldn’t remember how long it had been since he cared for and worried over someone else so much. He broke into tears any time he thought about losing him. He’d spent over a hundred euros to fly _coach_ to _this_ frozen hellscape just to spend a _day_ with Prussia. He hadn’t even stopped to think it over. He’d just done it.

“Me too. You’re mine too.” The words tumbled out of his mouth as everything hit him at once, filled his chest, made him feel like he was going to burst. “Shit. I love you. I…”

Suddenly, everything in life made so much sense.

“Do you remember…when our brothers got married? Do you remember what you asked me?” Prussia’s eyes widened gradually as Romano’s meaning dawned on him. “My answer’s yes.”

He turned red and sputtered like he’d blown a fuse. “What, really? I mean, great! That’s great! But, wait, do you really want to?”

“Do _you_ still want to?” Romano asked nervously.

He chuckled and scratched the back of his head. “To be honest, I was secretly glad that you said no when I proposed to you back then.”

“What the fuck, why?”

“Wait, no, let me explain. Back then I let myself get caught up in the moment. I wasn’t ready to marry you. I liked you, a lot, but I didn’t really know what I was doing or where our relationship was going to go or anything! But I love you now way more than I did back then, and I know exactly what I’m doing.”

Romano stopped to consider things. There was a lot he wasn’t certain about. His economy, his position in the EU as the underperforming Italy, his waste disposal crisis and problems with the Camorra, his relationship with his brother. But he didn’t doubt what he had with Prussia, or this decision. “We should get married.”

Prussia smiled from ear to ear. “Let’s get married.” His smile dropped. “West won’t approve.”

“Fuck him.”

“Spain won’t approve either.”

“Spain can suck my dick.”

“Wait, I thought that was my job.”

“We should just elope.”

“Oooh, _elopement_.” His eyes sparkled. “How romantic!”

Romano snorted. “Shut up.”

“I’m being serious! We should do that!”

“I’m pretty sure our friends and family, even the ones that don’t approve, would never forgive us if we didn’t invite them to our wedding.”

He lied down beside him and chuckled. “You’re probably right about that. So, if we’re having a proper wedding, we’re probably going to have to, like, plan stuff, right?”

“What kind of stuff?” Romano asked.

“Like…when it’s gonna be, where it’s gonna be…”

“Autumn. In my city.”

“Okay, now that that’s settled,” Prussia said without a trace of sarcasm, “who are we going to graciously invite to witness our holy union?”

Prussia may have preferred something lavish, and it certainly was tempting to spoil themselves, but Romano hated the idea of turning what was supposed to be a happy occasion into a chore. Trying to find a venue big enough for everyone, paying for the reception, arranging the seating. It just sounded like an enormous headache. “I only want to invite the people that we absolutely want to be there. We don’t need to send out invitations to the entire fucking world. This is gonna be an exclusive event, goddammit. VIP list.”

“West,” Prussia said gently, watching for a response.

Romano grunted. “I guess.”

“And your brother.”

“He’d cry otherwise, so, yeah.”

“Spain?” Well, they couldn’t just _not_ invite Spain. He made a noise that was a vague sign of approval. “Oh, we should invite Austria and Hungary.”

Romano raised an eyebrow in opposition. “Really?”

“Yeah! I want to see the look on their dumb faces as they watch _me_ get married, those divorced losers. It’ll be priceless!”

He jabbed Prussia’s side. “You can’t use our wedding, of all things, as an opportunity to gloat!”

“Why not? A wedding is the best time to gloat! Especially if you’re marrying your own perfect, gorgeous Italian.”

Prussia could be such a stupid, sweet sap at times. It was ridiculously embarrassing, but Romano would never discourage him. It made him smile more than it made him cringe. “If you keep saying things like that, I just might enjoy being married to you.”

“Watch out,” he said with a grin, “I’m gonna give you the happiest years of your life.”

Romano’s heart weighed heavily in his chest. “Don’t…don’t say that.” _You’re just going to make it harder._

Prussia’s smile vanished, an unreadable expression replacing it. “Hey.” He grabbed hold of Romano’s hand. “When I’m gone—”

“Stop.”

“Listen,” he pleaded. “You’ve got to promise. Remember me. Miss me. But don’t let that be the only thing you do.” He squeezed his hand tighter. “And…you’ll probably find someone else that will make you happy too. After I’m gone.”

There was no way to know that, and Romano really couldn’t stomach the thought. He closed his eyes and touched his forehead to Prussia’s shoulder. He just had to make him fall in love with him. If Romano could forget him and just leave, he would have done it. But he couldn’t, so the only way he could go on with the least amount of regret was if he went all in. Marry the stupid bastard that he couldn’t let go of so that he’d have no choice but to spend the rest of his life with him, even if Romano couldn’t spend the rest of his life with Prussia.

“Wouldn’t you get jealous,” Romano asked, “if you looked down and saw me with someone else after you’re gone?”

“Oh, absolutely. But it’s alright. Whoever it is won’t replace me. It won’t even be a contest.”

“You sound so confident.”

“Because I know how crazy you are about me.”

There went Prussia gloating again, but Romano couldn’t really argue. He was crazy enough about him to marry him, and crazy enough to make his next suggestion.

“You should live with me.”

Prussia stared at him.

“Once we get married.”

“You mean…permanently?”

“If…if you don’t want to…just forget it…”

“I…” His eyes drooped sadly. “I can’t just leave West.”

Romano understood, but he couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Even after marrying, they would still have to put up with the distance. He hated it so much, his heart ached at the thought of the future years he’d have to endure it.

“What if, instead…we get a house,” Prussia said.

“A house? Where?”

“Switzerland? Since you don’t hate Switzerland, and it’s between Berlin and Rome. We could go there to get away from our brothers and just be with each other.”

He pondered it for a moment. “That doesn’t sound bad…”

It sounded pretty damn romantic, actually. A house just for the two of them, away from both their countries and all the politics and bullshit. A rustic cottage in the mountains (Prussia’s idea) with lots of wildflowers in a pretty garden and a very powerful heater (Romano’s).

They talked more about their house until Romano, exhausted from their earlier romp and cozy underneath the clean smelling covers of Prussia’s bed, couldn’t fight closing his eyes any longer. He pulled the blankets up to his chin nested into a pillow. “I can stay the night if I leave super early in the morning, right?”

Prussia curled up next to him, wrapping an arm around him. “You know you’re not going to wake up that early.”

“You will. You can wake me up.”

“You’re going to scratch my eyes out if I do, so no thank you. You’re going to end up skipping work.”

“Mm. It’s okay.” _This is more important_ , he thought as he pushed closer to Prussia’s chest and drifted off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this highly self-indulgent piece that might be the last Hetalia/Prumano thing I ever publish. If the 2018 Prumano week ends up happening in August, you may see me again during that time, but that all depends. If you like Prumano, I would greatly encourage you to participate in the Prumano week so that other people who love Prumano can enjoy it too. Find out more about the event here: https://prumanoweek2018.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> I'm not in any way connected to the organizing of this event, I just love this pairing so much, and I wish more people cared enough about Prumano to write fanfics and make fanart and things for it, or at least support those who do.
> 
> You can also come say hi to me on Tumblr if you'd like, here: https://guiltipanda.tumblr.com/


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